


Down the Dark Corridor

by ChatoyantDwarf



Category: Amnesia (Game & Anime), Amnesia: The Dark Descent
Genre: Amnesia, Blood and Gore, Castle Brennenburg, Horror, M/M, Mild Gore, Other, Psychological Horror, Psychological Trauma, Spooky, Survival Horror, Thriller, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-12 21:17:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7949473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChatoyantDwarf/pseuds/ChatoyantDwarf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brennenburg is just as he had left it, quiet, innocent, almost peaceful if it wasn't for this awful feeling lurking deep in his stomach. He closed his eyes, something deep in his head was calling out to him. He squinted in anger and frustration. Then there was a ting like silver falling on marble and the words suddenly fell over his lips "Don't forget... some things mustn't be forgotten. The shadow hunting me... I must hurry. My name is Daniel, I live in London at... at... Mayfair... What have I done? This is crazy. Don't forget, don't forget. I must stop him. Focus! My name is... is... I am Daniel.."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Perturb remembrance

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning, it's been quite a while since I have played Amnesia, but I feel it's a fandom worth rekindling. Bare with me if some of the lore is lightly off 8D. On the other hand, Enjoy! And please, feel free to shoot me some comments on how i could improve or, in other words, make my writing more enjoyable! I generally respect polite critisim and i promise I don't bite 8)   
> Also, please bare with my spelling errors...we all have our days.
> 
>  
> 
> TA-TA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****For best results, read in a dark room with your closet or room door open a crack****

"Daniel...Daniel! I am Daniel!" The young man hopped up quickly with a chuckle having remembered something out of his clouded memory. The crazed feeling left and realization struck him hard. There has to be a reason his memory was about as good as looking through a clouded window. The mear thought of attempting to grasp ahold of a possible memory caused great headache. Almost like that one math problem you could never solve as a kid, or your train of thought completely derailing, leaving no survivors as you try to retrace your steps. He took in a deep breath and ran a hand through his chestnut hair. His eyes squinted and darted in thought as he stood, using the old wooden nightstand as his guide. Muttering lightly under his tone, his head ringing about as this pitch in his ears just didn't seem to leave. Suspicion grew to his dismay as he picked up a small bottle containing the reminance of some mysterious liquid. He furrowed his brow and continued to the letter that lay beside it. "nineteenth..of August.." he read aloud, tracing his fingers along the crumpled paper before taking in in his hand "eight-teen thirty nine..". He looked out the window placed by his bed before continuing. His teeth grasped hold of his lower lip as he continued on, the words echoing in his empty mind. "I wish I could ask you how much you remember. I don't know if there will be anything left after I consume this drink." This made him pause, turning his eyes back to the small jar before continuing on. "Don't be afraid Daniel. I can't tell you why, but know this, I choose to forget. Try to find comfort and strength in that fact. There is a purpose. You are my final effort to put things right. God willing, the name Alexander of Brennenburg still invokes bitter anger in you." The unsettling lurch in his gut blazed like a rekindled fire. He swallowed the lump in his throat, reading on " If not, this will sound horrible. Go to the Inner Sanctum, find Alexander and kill him. His body is old and weak, and yours, young and strong. He will be no match for you. One last thing. A Shadow is following you. It's a living nightmare - breaking down reality. I have tried everything and there is no way to fight back. You need to escape it as long as you can. Redeem us both Daniel. Descend into the darkness where Alexander waits and murder him.".  
A Sudden chill ran though and under his skin as the last three words rang particularly loud in his mind. The chill was almost sensational. A strange sense of rear madness coursing though him, like something he badly wanted to do and it had to be done now. 

"Your former self, Daniel". The last recollection of this incident drifting over his word-struck mouth. 

He took the particularly odd note and stuffed it away into the pocket of his waist coat, drawing his hand out slowly. An odd thought struck him. What if it was a trap? What if this...Alexander guy had drugged him then set this note up as bait. "No..." he shook the though out of his head "no...there has to be a reason you remembered your name...". He spoke lightly under his breath. The castle wasn't your average hut in Mayfair, it's very well possible he's not alone. The thought it self was unsettling. He had to trust that the odd note on his nightstand was written by him, and him alone. What does he have to loose? If the note is correct, the shadow is coming for him anyway, might as well attempt to carry on what his former self had requested. He narrowed his eyes at the oncomming corridor, just beyond the comforts of his safely lit room. It was dark, and he was certain there were eyes peering back at him just beyond the black veil. A currtling feeling started at his toes aching him to jump forward and close the door in fear that some morphed and inhuman creature will crawl its way towards him. But in order to do that, he'd have to get close to whatever resided in the deepest parts of his mind. He was partically frozen, his legs stubborn to continue on with his mission. He closed his eyes, in hopes this feeling would leave him, but it only made it worse. Now he had no way of knowing if this inhuman, decrepit creature was in the room with him. His eyes shot open and the uneasy feeling remained. He took it upon himself to stare at the darkness whilist attempting to reach for the golden lantern on the far side of the nightstand beside his bed. Taking it in his hand he hurriedly lit it with a box of tinder he found not far from the lantern. Cursing under his breath, he lifted it above his head and forced himself to charge forward. He thrust the lantern out into the ever-engulfing pitch only to be met with the one thing he dreaded the most. The lantern hadn't provided enough golden light to clear the entire corridor. To Daniel this was obvious. Lanterns aren't supposed to be used as lamps, but surely, he thought, there had to be some other lights or lanterns lit around the castle. He was wrong. He had gained the courage to push himself forward only to be met with the midnight fighting against him, alone in a corridor that seemed like it could go on forever. This only made it worse for him. Now, not only could he not see anything out beyond arms reach, but everything or everyone hiding beyond this dark vail could stare daggers at him, and Daniel would never know. Left only with the wretched feeling of being watched. As if to confirm this horrid nightmare of a thought, a sound was heard behind him. At first he was frightened, turning towards the sound in hopes to catch it in the lanterns gaze. Then he was filled with terrible amounts of horror and anger, as the lantern did just that. He was met, face to face to what seemed like a prince forever lost in the years of age. Silver white hair fell over dark velvet red attire. His dark eyes where cold and black, even under such terrible lantern light. A pit in Daniel's stomach fell, and a lump was met in his throat. He had to swallow it down to speak. "Alexander..."


	2. Black eyes in golden light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **It's ideal you read the first chapter before this one**
> 
> Half of this was written at one in the morning in hopes to continue and publish chapters one and two in the same day. I now see this was a mistake.

There was silence. Terrible, motionless silence. Daniel's golden green eyes had been locked to those of the man before him. Lost in a different darkness then that of before. The cobblestone which surrounded the two felt to be closing in on them, Or at least to Daniel it did. He tried to pull away, wanting to take back his recent compulsive desire to reveal that of which hid in the shadows. The angelic decrepince of the man gave off an odd feeling. A feeling of pure loss of sanity. Daniel managed a step back, the echo of his shoe against the stone shattered the silence. Alexander tilted his head, giving a furrowed and almost confused expression. " What's the matter Daniel...you look like you've seen a ghost." The ending of his sentence held that of no innocence at all. Infact it pricked much like that of a terrible ich. Daniel felt helpless. His eyes growing more feirce the longer they kept locked. The winter prick of Brennenberg now scratching at his cheeks desprately, the only warm part of his body now being the hand of which held the lantern. Alexander gave a hollow chuckle. He took a step forward and sudden screams filled Daniel's head. Great, yet terribly, horrific screams. Daniel was at a loss, where did such perceivable torcher come from? It wrecked in his mind, unable to keep a single thought clear. Sudden intuition told him to draw back once more and do something completley maddening to him. In a careful and swift motion, he lifted his only source of light with great mentle hesitance, and blew it out. The scarring face of the man before him vanished to Daniels pleasure, but he was now left alone with the greatest fear that swallowed him completly. The pitch of night engulfed him. "Oh Daniel...." Alexanders voice having seemed farther from him in light, now seemed so close it nearly imprisoned his hearing totally. " You'd have to be completley mad to do something like that.".

 

Daniel took no hesitance in turning the other direction and attempting to run out of Alexander's reach. Everything around him curls into dispreportion. Much like that unsetteling dream in which the world around you begins to cave, swollowing you in a wave of disarray. This is what Daniel felt. What he saw. Everything around him, what he could catch a gilmps of at least, seemed unrecognizable. His mind was churning, the atmosphere being thrown into maddening chaos once more. Alexander was right. This was mad, bonkers even. But he had no other way to elude himself from that entity of a man, if he even was that. Daniel clambered through the halls, about to collapes out of pure disarrangment had it not been for the door just before him. He launched himself towards the brass knob, turning it and caving in with a mix of exhaution and mind kurtling sickness. A small far off light in the back illuminated the odd little room he now called his rescue. He heaved himself to his feet with great effort, the feeling that Alexander wasn't far behind haunted him. With the light off in the distant corner, he was able to muster up enough strength and hope to close the door behind him and move an old, fairly dusty chair that resided beside the cubbord just below the handle. He stumbled desperately towards the light, a pain tightening in his chest as he grasped for breath and the last bits of his sanity. An odd, almost familiar feeling emerged deep within him. The feeling, though unnerving, gave off that same furious feeling as before. The pure feeling of his sanity leaving pleasured him oddly. Great concern wavered in his mind before engaging once more into survival mode. He observed with great intrest around the room he now resided, not moving away from the bliss of the light. It was fairly spacey, the room, but not big enough to hold a bed or anything more then a desk for that matter. To his left there was a door. As there was to his right. He Took in a deep breath and diverted his glance back to the door the silver haired incubus supposedly lurked behind. There, he had sweet momentary comfort, though his moments seemed counted. The longer he stood there quietly under the golden light, the more cautious he became. This feeling ceased to exist the moment door to the left of him emitted an odd sound from behind it. Daniel, lightly frightened he might loose grasp of his sanity once more, darted to the door opposite it. The handle jiggled lightly, as he despritly plastered himself against the exit, with his hand at ready upon the handle.


	3. The Door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: It may get gorier as the chapters progress

There was a pounding in his chest. A great, heavy pounding as the familiar lump found home in his throat once more. The pound felt as that of a deep low echo searching within his ribcage, pulling it from the centre out. He had blanked. The room was no longer the little office residing at the end of the darkened cobblestone corridor. Instead, it looked oddly familiar. The walls remained cobbled only this time, instead of belonging to that of the great Brennenburg castle, they were small, aged, and fragile. Daniel's mind was spinning with confusion and terrible headache. A furrowed expression lept across his pale face. The door that had divided himself from Alexanders grasp looked no longer like the door from Brennenburg either. Instead it was an old oak door, singing the song of age, a small old diner chair wedged just benieth the handle of it. The entrance in which he choose to plaster himself to in aid to escape was now that of a cubbord, his aching hand resting on a an old aluminum coat hanger. There was an odd weariness to the atmosphere in this hut. Daniel's eyes met the wooden dinner table, which had earlier been a noble desk. He looked to his hands then back around the familar kitchen. "This....This can't be..." he spoke with unsettling caution, not sure weather to trust his mind at all. The door across from the cubbord had a light crawling and attempting escape from the cracks. The small brass door knob had continued to jiggle. It was sure that the door had been locked, for the one on the other side had great trouble attempting to get through. Daniel walked with caution towards the other door, edging himself around the dinner table. He paused for a moment to steal a glance from the near by window just beyond that of which he stopped. Mayfair. 'That's not possible...It can't be..' he thought to himself 'I was just at...' he looked to the floor in sudden realization. He's been here the whole time. He had to have been. Anything before seemed like an odd and terrible dream. But he couldn't quite remember what he was doing before he met himself at the cubbord either.

 

He pushed onward to the door, with whoever was stubborn enough to keep at the locked handle. The ruckus of the jiggling knob stopped and there was a voice from behind the door. It was soft, like a rose petal falling on fresh snow. "Daniel....?". Great sadness filled his heart more than he has ever felt before. More then anything, he wanted to rush to the door, swing it open and take the owner of this soft voice in his arms. "Daniel....why is the kitchen door locked....". Without a second thought he threw himself at the door, just as he had imagined, taking the brass handle in his hand and pulling it open with all his might. There she stood, just as he had remembered her. Her dark hair pulled back into a messy braid. Just like the ones he used to do. Daniel's heart filled now with a mixture of drepressing happiness. Any feeling of insanity, impurity left him completley and totally. Hazel - his little sister, stood there before him. It's not possible, it can't be, she... "- Everything alright in there..?" She spoke, looking to him with a light bit of laughter in her words. Daniel was trapped, any and every memory of this little girl flushed back into his mind like the wave of a broken dam. It was pleasently overwhelming. "Hazel..." He managed to sputter out. He managed it once more, this time a small smile spreding across his lips "Hazel!". He wanted more then anything to take her in his grasp. To pick her up and twirl her about in his arms, to hug the ever living light out of her, because there she was. Standing before him, in their fathers hut in Mayfair, on a late afternoon. Everything was as it should be. He reached his hand out to his younger sister, in hopes to feel and caress the softness of her cheeks again. She pulled away. Almost like that of a frightened animal. The expression in her eyes changed dramatically. She opened her mouth as if to speak to him but closed in in a whimper. "Hazel...Hazel, what's the matter...it's me, Daniel..." His tone was a mixture of desperation and great concern. He attempted this motion one last time, to hold his sister as he had done what felt like years ago. She pulled back once more, this time the heart ache was nearly unbareable. Why was she acting like this? "Daniel..?" His wide-eyed sister before him managed to squeak out. "Daniel...what have you done...what's...what's happened to you..?". With this, Daniel's eyes resided to his hand outstreched to her. The sound of liquid hitting the cold stone flooring rang loudly and echoed around them. Red. His hands, covered in a luke-warm red. Streaming down his arms and off his finger tips. A sickening lurch fell deep within his stomach. Blood, this was blood, and it was everywhere. His hands shakingly lightly as he looked about the rest of his body. Was this his blood? He couldn't ever remember getting hurt, not in a sense that caused such a sickening sight as that of the one before him. His green waistcoat and drapper white shirt where covered in what looked like the result of someone taking a red paint brush and flinging the red contents at him from a distance. Something dripped onto his eyelash from his brow. He took it upon himself to attempt to wipe the contents clear, only smearing it more. He cluched his head in agony "No...no, Hazel, i don't..". His dark chestnut hair now thick with the red syrup. He balled up his fists, crunching his hair in his palms during the process. "I don't know what this is...Hazel, I can't remember, I don't-" He looked up, not hearing a sound from his sister in quite some time. He expected a murmer or mutter at least, but nothing. Their surroundings having grown much darker then when he last recalled. His sister now looked at him with glassy eyes and silver-black dullness. This wasn't their kitchen in Mayfair anymore. He couldn't recall where. He did know one thing. This one thing he could have gone his entire life without seeing. The one thing to completely brake his sanity once and for all. His sister was strung up before him like a pig at a butcher shop. Her head was limp. Her wrists tied so tightly, the shade diffence between her palms and her wrists were a horrific site alone. There he stood, with a saw in one hand, her blood in the other and everywhere else.


	4. Decrippling Sanity

"No! Please No!" Daniel cried out in a horror struck rasp, the back of his throat aching as a mixture of saddness and insanity over took him. He took the saw in his hand and threw with such fear of himself, it clattered against the far off wall. "Not hazel..please not my hazel..." He took two brave steps forward, closer to the body before him. His voice began as a swarmful anger, was now a hushed whisper. "Not...my hazel..". He took her cheek in his hand as he had wanted to do so before. She was cold. Similar to that of a rose, now plucked and wilting, the tempeture alone tempted him to draw back. He took his thumb, running it lightly along her soft skin, wishing life back into her hallow shell. He had done this to her. There was no other explination. The blood, the look in her eyes. "Daniel?". His thoughts were inturrupted by a familiar voice. The same echoing voice he had heard in his dream just before Mayfair. Just before Hazel had- "well, we haven't got all day, my friend.....". It was Alexander, only his tone was different. Friendly almost, as if Daniel had just come in from a stroll and they were about to share mince pies by a fire place and exchange laughs. The older man wore his long silver silk hair back, pulled in that fashion with the help of a dark bow. A Badly sewn apron, obviously made with the help of old scrap fabric was tied around his slender hips, falling down neatly to his ankles. He wore a green waistcoat as well, only his had a mix of blue in it with golden trimming. He was wiping his hands on a clothe, staining the cream colour with bits of red the longer he wiped. Daniel didnt want to face him. He didn't want to, he couldn't. He feared wht he might do to him, secretly regretting he had thrown the saw across the dungeon. The dungeon! The dungeon in back in Brenneburg! He knew Mayfair was too good to be true.

Alexander approched Daniel from behind, placing a fairly clean hand on his shoulder, blood still in the creases of his fingernails. Daniel hadn't drawn back as he thought he would. Instead he stood with his fists clenched by his sides, his jaw locked and his glare to the floor. "Daniel..?" the man behind him spoke almost conserningly. " Daniel, you did well. It's not as if you knew the young lad, now is it?" he spoke with a light rythm in his tone similar to that of which a friend would do comforting another friend in need. This made Daniel's brow furrow. 'Young...lad?' he thought, weakening the grip in his palms and looking up cautiously, nervous as if to catch Hazels lifeless body in his glance again. It wasn't Hazel at all. Alexander was right. In the position he has recalled his sister, there was strung a young man, maybe a few years older then him. Alexander read Daniel's shocked expression, walking past him, stroking his cheek lightly in the process. "Something the matter, Daniel?" he spoke, glancing up at him as he had stopped by the area in which they kept the torcher instraments. They were a gorey site, stained with blood accompanied by bits of flesh hanging off the teeth. Alexander pulled some more clothe from his pocket, lifting an instrament and tracing down it. Daniel stood in awe. An utter release was left within him, hopful to the fact it wasn't his sister stained across his cloathing. He caught Alexander's words and shook himself from shock, looking to him with a blank expression. Alexander simply rose his brow as if to reiterate the question. "I'm fine..it's...it's nothing" he managed to mangle out. Alexander gave a light chuckle placing the now clean tool down and approching Daniel calmly. He bowed his head, drawing a hand into his pocket from behind his apron and drew out yet another white clothe, extending it out to Daniel "Clean your self up.". Daniel took it in his hand as Alexander drew past him with his hands in his pockets "We have work to do..." he finished as Daniel attempted to wipe himself clean.


	5. Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm back with another chapter! I apologise for the small delay, as I usually try and update these daily. 
> 
> I do hope you enjoy and until next time!!! 
> 
>  
> 
> Toodles!

There he stood, so familar, in the dungeon of some hell-driven nightmare. Alexander was humming to him self off in the corner. Daniel could hear it bounce off the walls and back to him clearly. That man was madly driven, he had to be. One question remained in Daniel's head, pounding as if begging to be answered. Can he even trust himself that this is all real? Mayfair seemed more a reality then anything he's felt before, yet here her stood deep down in Brennenberg with Alexander behind him. Daniel took the cream clothe, now looking at it as if it wasn't at all what he saw it to be. Alexander had caught this notion and rose his head to watch him with a chuckle. The sudden sound leaving Alexander's lips startled the young english man as he dropped his hands down to his sides, turning to the older man. "Tell me Daniel..." Alexander started "Why do we do this...?" he spoke, notioning to the torchered body. The question threw Daniel off immesnely. "I...I beg your pardon..?". He hoped to rid himself of the question. This couldn't be real. If it was, he would have remembered how he entered such a situation. Right? That would mean Alexander is just a fragment of his imagination. 

"You heard me, Daniel." said the Baron with a gentle tone that was almost threatening, a soft smile lightly shadowing across his lips. "To.." Daniel started, his amnesia getting the best of him. He looked down to the clothe in his hands. It had turned to that like sand, slipping and sinking through his fingers, cutting off his sentence completely and utterly. He knew it. It wasn't real. This almost made him chuckle, glad to be pulled out of such a terrible situation at the perfect time. Not to his liking, an odd, uneasy feeling came with it. One he wasn't too fond of. One he has never felt in that of his older "memorys" he's visited. This feeling was emptiness, total emptiness, consuming him. Just as the clothe had gone, the body strung up behind him soon began to shrivel and vanish as well. Then the tools, then the Baron, then finally the floor beneath him. What he saw beyond the flooring jolted sudden fear in him, and the unexplained empty feeling made sense to him now. There was darkness. Utter pitch as he had remembered before, and if he did not find surface, he was going to fall. Slowly, the cobblestones fell, crumbling and tossing until the pitch of the darkness swallowed them whole. Daniel attempted to pull back, to find something to stand upon to keep from falling. The more the crumbling nightmare closed in on him, the further back he was forced to step. He came across a wall that didn't allow him to go any further. This was it. This was the end. No matter how hard he tried to convince himself it was only a dream, the feeling grew stronger, and it was no longer that. This was his reality now, and dying seemed like a very possible idea.

The floor beneath him gave way, and just as he feared, he fell. This didn't feel like falling. More like the tugging at his ankles as he drowned in a sea of shadow, sinking deeper and deeper. He clawed to grasp ahold of something that could possibly relief him from the pitch, but there was no hope. Just as fast as he had been pulled down, he now found himself laying at the bottem of this horrific pit, as if just waking from a deep and quiet slumber. He shot up right. Absolutley everything around him was this swarming shadow like smoke, blackness engulfed everything except this odd light which shone down upon him. He couldn't tell where it was comming from, but he felt displayed amongest the darkness. And there, across from himself stood a rather familiar young man. Daniel furrowed his brow, where was he, and who was that man...? The young man before him wore an oddly familar waistcoat. A green one, actually. And chestnut hair just reaching his chin - much like his own. Shit....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Question, would any of you read my works if I were to write an original story? 
> 
> :3


End file.
